The In-Laws: Not The Movie, The Move-In

My face was fleshier, my eyes had dark circles (think raccoon), and my hair was poofier (it was the late 80s), but that was definitely my reaction to Chuck's plan of moving in with his parents "temporarily."

What does moving back “home” really mean?

During the fall of 1989, I contacted the professor with whom I had previously done grant research. She was was thrilled to hear I was returning home because she received another grant and was looking for a reliable research assistant. And she didn’t know I was sober this time around. The grant wouldn’t begin until the summer of 1990 and we just sold our condo, so we could move any time. We sub-let a condo on a month-to-month basis while we looked for jobs.

I was hired as a full-time temporary sociologist at the community college back home. They interviewed me over the phone and hired me sight unseen. Beginning in January 1990, I taught 6 sociology courses (5 was a full load). Until that time, I had taught 1 course for GWU and done 3 guest lectures. Preparing and teaching 6 courses was an absurd incongruous amazing amount of work.

Just to be clear, I'm the pony in the this picture, hauling more than I can handle. Poor stupid, er, innocent pony and selfish college administrators, er, girls, for overburdening this little beast.

Chuck hadn’t found a job yet, so Alex and I moved in with his parents. He commuted 9 hours each weekend to see us and house-hunt until he found a job. We moved into his parents’ house because they lived in an rehabbed 16-room farm-house and my mom lived in an non-rehabbed 6-room trailer. I like to attribute the decision purely to physics, but I have a sneaky suspicion feeling Chuck wanted to be on his turf.

Awkward at first, we eased into a routine where I tried to fit into their routine. My in-laws were very gracious and generous. They loved having their grandson around. When they wanted their privacy, they had a vacation cabin in the Adirondacks on a small lake. When I wanted my privacy, I closed my eyes.

Ah, yes. I am a desirable, beautiful actress without the shackles of daily life...or the shackles of daily clothes. I love life behind my eyelids.

Work on my dissertation stalled because work as an enslaved busy college professor was homicidal crushing overwhelming challenging. I did, however, spend a great deal of time with Alex. During this time, I discovered that, maybe I wasn’t such a doofus-mother after all.

It was a typical evening. I was exhausted; Alex was revved. He needed to go to bed, mostly so I could. We splashed through his bath. I cajoled him to accomplish the dreaded brushing-of-teeth. We flipped and wiggled him into his footed pajamas. It was finally time read his favorite book for the 100th time. This was the last hurdle before prayers and blissful “lights out.”

Like all good mothers, I was beginning to despise these cute story-book characters.

We were sitting on the edge of his “big-boy” bed. I prepared myself to get enthusiastic in the face of reading the same old words, pointing to the same old pictures. Then I got an idea.

“Once upon an elephant, there was a hamburger named Todd and a bathtub named Copper…”

Alex looked up at me, wide-eyed. He took the book from me and looked at the front to see if it was different. “Mommy, read it.” He pointed to the first page. He knew the words by heart and these new words were “wrong.”

“Okay, Honey. Once upon a donkey, there was a hiccup—“

Alex’s laugh erupted from his toes and burst out in guffaws of uncensored joy. A contagion of laughter infected the room. He threw himself backwards on the bed, laughing so hard his little-boy body convulsed. My mommy body shook, rattled and rolled, too. I threw myself backward to join him in horizontal hysterics. Laughter morphed to tears of joy washing over our faces, pooling in our ears.

“Oh, Honey, I love you, too,” I hugged him hard and squeezed a few more giggles out of him. I wished Chuck could’ve been there to share in this silliness and sweetness. But that moment was meant to be shared between this unlikely mother and miracle child.

Alex and I share ready smiles, appreciation of humor, and innate kindness. Not bad for a mother who didn't have a clue.

“Read the funny way more, Mommy. Please?” I did. Forevermore.

Chuck moved up in late February, when he got a job in the financial sector. We started our house-hunting in earnest. After living in the D.C. area, we expected homes to be reasonably-priced; but we were buying in an anorexic anemic small seller’s market.

Can you believe that my lucky underpants didn't work in finding us a good deal? They'd always come through before--but, then again, I'd always worn them under tight white pants...

Then Chuck got an idea. Many times he had shown me an abandoned house about 3 miles from his parent’s home—“I’m going to own that house someday,” he told himself as a child. He was fixin’ to make his dream come true.

Look at her, Lovey. She's a beauty, I tell you. Dahling, look at her with your heart, not your eyes, like we look at our bank account. We simply must have her.

Like this:

I agree with the other comment, Life behind my eyelids is a beautiful phrase. Makes me want to write a poem or draw. I think many moms feel lucky to have their kids, and wonder why they were given something so wonderful, but then once in a while, we allow ourselves to see that our kids are lucky to have us too. And those moments erase all the thankless hours of chores and makes it all worth it.

Isn’t it fun the way laughter is contagious???
I loved my in laws and miss them. They can impart so much history on their grandkids; not to mention oodles of love.
Yes … I agree with Gayle … your son is handsome (seems to have your eyes) and the t-shirt is a hoot.
Great ..
Izzy

Derek, you just made my day! You know that sharing my story is my way of doing something positive for other people–showing them that you don’t have to be a victim of the circumstances life throws in front of you. But I don’t want this to read like a “self-help” manual–I want my stories to stand on their own and let readers take what they will from them. You just verified that I’m hitting the mark.

That seals the deal for me. This book is going to get published one way or the other! 🙂

Fabulous Fabulous…and did I say Fabulous Post! I love how you tell your story with the pictures and captions throughout. Witty, clever and personable. I’m hooked. Love the pic of you and your son! It was so cool to read that you did “funny” reading to your young son. I did the same thing, and of course, he knew it. And? He loved it. I miss my sons being little. Anyhoooo, keep the awesome posts coming! I’m a big fan.

Alex got the perfect mother, I’m sure of that! What a very dear and fun time you both had when you read to him “the funny way”–it so touched my heart, as it did both of yours. He’s a handsome young man and seems to have some of your sense of humor (re: his t-shirt).

Now what’s up with that house?

Ruth Ann MooreOct 01, 2011 @ 22:19:45

me, too : )

derekberryOct 01, 2011 @ 20:47:26

Thank you for always sharing these moments with us. Telling stories, you don’t seem to need to clearly point out “the point.” I always mistakenly read looking for a moral, but some life stories just are. And they exist as memories. And what they mean, they’re inseparable from the story. You cannot remove the “point” and allow it to stand alone. It’s really an integral, entwined part of the story. And that’s what I really enjoy about your posts.

Hey, you are something else – in a VERY good way! What I am thinking today is, apart from wishing I had been told some of the stories Alex was so fortunate to hear, LOL, is this:

You should really make a collection of those one liners of yours. If you don’t, other people will claim them and it would be a cool thing if, after your book publication, YOUR very own quotes wound up on ThinkExist or other places of note online amid Maya Angelou, Erma Bombeck and Oh, gee the range is endless. Maybe even open a page on your site right now so they are captured by you and no one can take them or claim them, at least.

It is in those unexpected moments of otherwise mundane circumstances that have such an ability to sneak up on you and take your breath away, creating memories and markers in your lives. How delightfully sweet and precious that evening must have been!